


Man Overboard

by ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Afterlife, Album: The Self-Titled Album (Blink-182), Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Inspired By Tumblr, Inspired by Music, Post-Order 66, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Reconciliation, Song: Man Overboard (Blink-182), The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24415237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal/pseuds/ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal
Summary: Commander Bly dreams of a future that will never be.
Relationships: CC-5052 | Bly & Aayla Secura, CC-5052 | Bly/Aayla Secura
Comments: 23
Kudos: 81





	Man Overboard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LanaBenikoisBestGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanaBenikoisBestGirl/gifts).



> This one goes out to RaestarShipper, who gave me my first gift and so I shall do the same in turn!

//

Bly had always loved mornings.

Mornings were a time of preparation, yes, among other things, but mostly, he just enjoyed how tranquil they were. To be up before the rest of the world was, to see things that he’d never seen during the hustle and bustle of the day proper, was a beautiful experience.

And here he was, watching a warm sunrise.

He wasn’t sure where he was, actually. Which was weird when he thought about it, because this place seemed familiar and foreign to him in equal measure. It was a happy place, one familiar to him, and yet he was pretty sure he’d never once set foot in the grass he now stood in, overlooking the sunrise that had only just begun to crest the horizon.

“Good morning, Bly.”

With a familiar, warm warmth in his chest, the man in question turned about, a happy smile sprouting on his face. Before him, just a few feet away - and turning those feet into inches, among other, smaller denominations - Aayla Secura stood, or rather, walked, towards him, only freshly awake, in comparison to him, if the yawn she was bravely suppressing was any indication.

It was cute.

“Good morning, my sweet.” Said Bly, as he took his wife -  _ wife!  _ \- in his arms and gave her a kiss, a soft, gentle one. “Did you sleep well?” 

“Very much so.” Said the Twi’lek, returning the hug he’d given her with one of his own. “No thanks to you and the baby.” 

“Well, we can hardly fault our little one for doing what little ones do best, now can we?” He asked with a small laugh. 

“Mm, that is true. Very true.” Aayla said, with a small laugh of her own. “Force be praised, she’s sleeping through the night now.”

And, as if on cue, the soft sound of a baby’s cry filled the air.

“Ooh, you jinxed it.” Bly teased, receiving a soft smack in the arm as a result. Rolling her eyes, Aayla took her husband by the hand and led him back inside their house. He closed the door behind them as they meandered inside and towards the source of the soft wails that filled the air. Pushing open a door, Bly walked with gentle tread towards a crib that held his most precious treasure. Well, besides his wife, anyways.

“Good morning to you too, Neria!” Bly cooed, as he picked up his daughter and took a moment to admire the tiny little bundle of joy that he held in his arms. As if on cue, little Neria took a moment to flail an arm at her father, gently batting at his cheek. Bly, of whom had suffered  _ way  _ worse, didn’t mind at all, if anything, he found himself being more and more enamored with the way the little girl awoke. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s here to make it all better.”

“And mommy.” Aayla chimed, somewhere to his side.

_“And_ mommy.” The bemused father added, putting on a faux-air of hasty distress for the fun of it. He passed Neria to her mother a moment later, when the little girl began to incline her body in that direction. Aayla accepted her daughter seamlessly, calming their daughter’s mild distress so smoothly, and for a long, beautiful moment, it was perfect. There Bly stood, his wife and child by his side, every one of them at peace.

_ Ping. _

“Was that the comm?” Aayla asked, an expression of inquisitive, quizzical puzzlement crossing her face.

_ Ping. _

“Yeah.” Bly said, pushing down a feeling that something was  _ wrong. _ “I’ll go take it real quick, then I can go make us breakfast. Sound good?” His wife nodded, and he rushed off in a hurry to go answer whoever was calling the home communicator.

_ Ping. _

Coming to a hasty stop, Bly tapped the button and took a breath. It must’ve been important, if the high-priority channel was any indication. Work, he supposed. But wait-

-the war was over.

A shadowy figure appeared on the comm’s holoprojector. Strange. Most people didn’t wear cloaks like that. Just as Bly was about to ask who it was who was calling him-

“Execute Order 66.”

-the world turned upside down.  _ Execute Order 66.  _ Went a voice in his head, an endless loop he couldn’t block out. Bly fell to his knees, knocking the comm to the ground, and he heard a distressed shout, one that sounded distinctly like Aayla. 

“Bly?”

Something was wrong. This wasn’t right. He...he didn’t remember how he’d gotten here in the first place.

“Bly?!”

He didn’t have a wife, he didn’t have a daughter. He’d gunned down his wife on Felucia when the Order came down, hadn’t been in control of himself, hadn’t been able to stop it, stop  _ himself- _

“Bly!”

And he woke up.

Staring up at the cold, impersonal ceiling that made up the private quarters of Imperial Commander CC-5052, Bly felt himself paralyzed by a cold sense of dread. He had...oh  _ Force,  _ what had he done?

_ I murdered her. _

He’d...oh Force, oh dear Force, he’d killed her. Killed the one person who’d made him whole, made him feel like he was more than just a soldier sent to fight and die for a Republic that would never be grateful. 

_ I killed her.  _

He remembered conversations about the future, about the family they would raise, who they’d invite to the wedding. He remembered kisses stolen in quiet corners of whatever base they happened to be bunkered up in that day, he remembered standing side-by-side with the woman who meant everything to him. He remembered-

_ I killed Aayla. _

Bly stared at the ceiling for a long time.

//

Twenty years later, Bly meets his end in the skies over Endor.

His A-Wing is crippled, broken beyond use, but he’s a Clone Trooper, a proud soldier of the Old Republic, and if there’s one thing a good soldier knows how to do, it’s to die on their feet. He will not spiral down to his doom without giving it  _ purpose. _ So he steers his burning fighter towards the bridge of the mockery of the old Venators that Aayla once commanded, and in his last moments, turns his gaze towards the sole memento he has left of her, a single holo, of her in a happy moment. With his last second, he smiles at the love who left him so long ago-

-and then there is nothing.

Strangely,  _ nothing  _ seems a lot like  _ something,  _ because he’s pretty sure that the afterlife looks nothing like a perfect little house on a perfect little hill, filled with old memories that he’s pretty sure he never lived. Something draws him towards that house, however, and so, he walks forward, noticing a pair of figures on a bench just outside, on the porch, it seems.

“Hello, Bly.”

It’s been years since he heard that voice, in his dreams or his waking hours, but it makes him freeze all the same. There, as beautiful as the day he’d first met her, is Aayla, and in her arms is Neria. The little girl is sleeping peacefully, at rest, just like her mother, who looks at him with neither malice nor resentment, but love, pure love.

“Aayla…” He breathes. His love smiles up at him, taps the space next to her, an obvious invitation. He hesitates for the barest of moments, and then he surges forward, joining her and embracing her. He has so many things to say and no idea how to express them, not here, not now. He wants to apologize, wants to cry, beg for forgiveness, maybe all three at once-

-but it doesn’t matter to Aayla, who holds her husband close and soothes his worries with simple touch, telling him that all is forgiven, all is well.

//

**Author's Note:**

> Note to self, don't go on Tumblr while watching Revenge Of the Sith. Ever.
> 
> In this timeline, Bly learns how to fly because of Wolffe or something. So he takes the place of the guy who canonically smashes his A-Wing through the Executor.
> 
> And then he and Aayla and Neria get to live a happy life in the netherworld of the force or something.


End file.
